SECOND CHANCES
by Darthishtar
Summary: In the weeks before the Empire attacks the Rebel base at Hoth, two tenuous friends learn that sometimes a second chance is crucial. A H/L fic.
1. Default Chapter Title

Many thanks to those who reviewed the forerunner of this work, The Last Days. And a thousand  
thanks to Becky who inspired this story.  
  
SECOND CHANCES, Part 1/3  
By Kathryn Olsen  
  
"Someone once told me that if you want anything done right, you should do it yourself."  
  
Han Solo looked up to see Princess Leia Organa standing in the hatchway, one hand on  
her hip and the other bracing against the doorjamb. Unexpectedly, she was in a grubby pair of  
coveralls and her hair was pulled back in a simple braid.  
  
He grinned. "Does that mean you're going to finally help out with the repairs, Your  
Worship?"  
  
She shrugged. "I spend enough time on this junk heap to know that you'll need an extra  
pair of hands to get it running before we evacuate."  
  
He pulled off his repair gloves and shook his head. "Can't fault your logic there.  
I didn't think royalty ever awoke before dawn."  
  
Her eyes narrowed. "The same could be said for you." She frowned. "As a matter of  
fact, I never went to bed last night. I've been working straight through to make sure nine  
hundred ground troops, our starfighter contingent, and the rest of the personnel on this base  
have a safe means off-planet tomorrow."  
  
"How very noble of you."  
  
"I'm not doing it for the prestige," she countered. "Why are you up this early?"  
  
He shrugged. "I wanted to be flight-ready before the festivities."  
  
She threw up her hands in mock exasperation. "I should have known the legendary Han  
Solo would never let work interfere with his ogling time."  
  
He winked. "You're just jealous that you're not the object of my ogle."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "What needs to be done?"  
  
He sighed. "It'll be easier to list what doesn't need to be done. But I think I  
could use your help on recalibrating the atmospheric controls."  
  
She nodded. "A lot easier than trying to understand Wookiee technological jargon."  
  
Han laughed. "First, however, we need some work on the sublight engines and you're  
the perfect size for that."  
  
She folded her arms. "In other words, it's a torturously painstaking process that you'd  
rather talk me through than do yourself."  
  
He scowled in mock indignation. "Has Chewie been giving you lessons in translating  
Corellian egos again?"  
  
She gave him an innocent smile. "Practice makes perfect."  
  
"At least you're dressed for the part." He strode towards the maintenance bay and beckoned  
her to follow. "How are you with a welder?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. "The fine royal arts: diplomacy, leadership, and grubwork."  
  
He grinned. "I take that as a 'hopeless?'"  
  
She snatched a pair of goggles from the rack and extended a hand. "I've had enough  
experience. Besides, I couldn't make it much worse, could I?"  
  
He handed her the welder and she vaulted into the engine hold. He could hear her land  
gracefully and went to retrieve the rest of the tools.  
  
He bent over to hand the toolbox to her and saw her wedged comfortably into the close  
confines of the bay, surveying the compartment with mild disgust.  
  
"Just as I suspected," she commented lightly. "Held together with spit and crating   
tape."  
  
"Cute," Han growled. "Let's get to work."  
* * *  
"I thought I'd find you here."  
  
Leia looked up from the plate she was welding, then shut off the tool and shoved her  
goggles onto her grimy forehead. "Nice to see you, too, Commander."  
  
Commander Carlist Rieekan sank into a sitting position on the edge and surveyed her work.  
"Not bad. Perhaps we should make you chief mechanic instead of Minister of State."  
  
She tossed the welder to him, then pulled herself up to sit next to him. "Don't you  
dare."  
  
"How long have you been down there?"  
  
She checked her wrist chrono and winced. "Just under six hours."  
  
He shook his head in wonder. "I see your patience isn't just diplomatic."  
  
She stretched languidly and sent him a wry smile. "The *Falcon* won't be hauling forty-  
five of our commandos tomorrow if my patience wears thin."  
  
"Understandable."  
  
Leia glanced over at him. "So, General, what brings you to our humble surroundings?"  
  
He smiled slightly. "I just thought I'd let you know that Mon Mothma made contact about  
an hour ago."  
  
Leia's expression brightened. "What news?"  
  
"The convoy is well on its way to the rendezvous point. There were no problems involved  
so far in the mission."  
  
Leia sagged in relief. "They've got Lancer Flight from Rogue Squadron with them. No   
harm can come to them."  
  
"We can only hope." He sighed. "I wish Captain Skywalker were with them. It would  
make feel better."  
  
"Neeva's a superior officer," she assured him. "He wouldn't let anything happen to  
the convoy, even if it meant letting himself get killed."  
  
"The Rogue mentality," Rieekan said wryly. "It's what landed Captain Skywalker in  
the bacta tanks after the last mission."  
  
Leia shrugged. "Heroics aren't rogue-specific as I'm sure you know."  
  
He nodded. "All too well," he said softly. "Rogue Squadron is also being officially   
attached to Echo Base as its primary aerial defense."  
  
Leia frowned. "It will be difficult if the Imperials find us before we can acclimate  
our weaponry to the climate."  
  
"Agreed."  
  
Rieekan's mouth twitched. "She sends her greetings and hopes that you 'haven't wandered  
into any more blaster sights lately.'"  
  
Leia winced. "She knows me too well." She looked up. "Anything else?"  
  
Rieekan's face sobered. "Some very bad news. I hate to be the one to tell you."  
  
Her heart constricted. "What happened?"  
  
His chin dropped to his chest and his shoulders slumped in defeat. "Unfortunately,  
I've been given a field commission as a General and given command of Echo Base."  
  
She clapped a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh. She reached over to embrace him  
briefly. "It's about time."  
  
His face broke into a wide grin. "Strange, that's what she said." He took her hand   
and looked it over. "If only the rest of base could see you now."  
  
She smiled. "It might make them respect me more. The vaunted Princess, down from her  
ivory tower."  
  
He squeezed her fingertips. "I don't think you've ever had a problem with respect.  
You're the one who volunteers for every dangerous mission just so no one else stands a chance  
of getting hurt. Besides, most of us are still alive because of your strength on the Death  
Star."  
  
"Don't remind me." She rubbed her temples. "Wonder if Captain Solo would allow me  
a lunch break."  
  
"Only one reliable way of finding out."  
* * *  
"What's the reading now?"  
  
Leia squinted at the gauge on the coolant system. "It's at 3 mark 91 and falling."  
  
There was a noise of heartfelt exasperation from the adjacent room. She stifled a  
laugh and waited for her next instructions.  
  
"I'm going to tweak the flow valve. If it starts to redline, let me know."  
  
She smiled in spite of herself. "Yes, sir. Tweak away."  
  
She folded her arms and watched the numbers slowly rise. They were approaching the  
red zone, but the gauge was levelling out.  
  
"Hurry. We've got two hours to the festivities and I still haven't done my hair."  
  
"Don't worry, Your Highnessness. We'll be done in plenty of time." There was a pause.  
"How are we doing?"  
  
"Holding steady," she called. "Reading at 8 mark 73."  
  
"I think that should do it. One more minor adjustment and we should have a fully functional  
freighter. Could you keep an eye..."  
  
His last words were drowned out as the coolant line burst. The pipe hit her high on  
the forehead, driving her back into a table. She involuntarily gasped for breath, taking in  
a lungful of the potentially toxic korfaise gas.  
  
As she fell, her arm knocked over the tools with a crash. She collapsed to the floor,  
coughing violently. She groped for the canister of sealant frantically and her hand closed around   
it. She was only vaguely aware of the shouts and roars from the other compartment.  
  
She had to get the line sealed off.  
  
She pushed herself to her knees, too dazed to rise for an agonizing moment. Blood streamed  
into her eyes from the gash and she swiped in frustration at the liquid. With one hand firmly  
pressed to her forehead, she stumbled to the source of the leak.  
  
Taking careful aim, she pressed the line together and sprayed the sealant along the   
rupture, closing it as best as she could. The gaseous plume all but disappeared just before   
the darkness took her.  
  
She awoke with a splitting headache and sarcasm on her lips.  
  
"I've been told I have explosive beauty," she said quietly, "but this is ridiculous."  
  
Han grinned. "Ah, so that blow didn't disrupt your charm."  
  
Leia grimaced. "Cute," she mimicked. "I assume I'm still alive."  
  
"Of course," Han said wryly. "We couldn't let you have such an ignominious death."  
  
"I appreciate the attention to protocol."  
  
He bowed his head slightly, his smile vanishing into a solemn mockery of deference.   
"You got very mild korfaise poisoning and a nasty gash, but you'll live."  
  
Leia rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you're eager to get to the festivities."  
  
He shrugged. "They can wait."  
  
Leia shook her head. "Go. I'll be fine. Enjoy your last few hours of fun while you  
can."  
  
He rested a hand on her arm. "You're sure?"  
  
"Of course." She waved a hand weakly. "You're dismissed."  
  
He grinned. "Hope to see you soon. Pretentious formal events just aren't the same   
without you."  
* * *  
Luke Skywalker let out his breath in a relieved sigh. "She's all right, then?"  
  
Han nodded. "I can't imagine the rumors that have been flying around this place."  
  
Luke grinned. "I think most people think you and Chewie tried to assassinate her over  
some labor dispute."  
  
He snorted. "That's one way of putting it."  
  
Han checked his chrono. "She's missing her own party."  
  
"Maybe she decided to sleep off the effects," Luke suggested.  
  
"Not likely." He rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily. "I'll be back later; I think  
I'll go see if Her Worship is still alive."  
  
He turned and caught his breath. Leia was standing in the doorway, still unnoticed by  
the rest of her comrades. Her face was pensive, but peaceful.  
  
He stood and moved quickly towards the doorway. She watched his approach and turned  
a brilliant smile on him. For the first time in almost three years, he could discern the visible  
markings of royalty.  
  
She carried herself like a queen, the image enhanced by the stunning dress she was  
wearing. Floor-length, it was made of deep green velvet. The long sleeves were fitted to her  
small arms and the tight bodice, with the neckline embroidered in a gold floral pattern, was  
countered by a full skirt. Her hair was braided into a crown of twisting braids and pinned  
back with gold clasps.  
  
*Stang, I love this woman.*  
  
The thought stunned him. He had never really considered the possibility and yet it  
was a reality. Somewhere among the arguments, the bantering, and the bureaucracy, he had fallen  
in love with the most unlikely candidate.  
  
He stopped before her and took her hand, kissing it gently. "Your Highness, you look   
stunning."  
  
She blushed. "I thought if I were to bother to make an appearance, I should do it in  
style."  
  
"It worked," he conceded. "Why don't you come in?"  
  
She sighed. "I was enjoying the peace for a few moments longer. It's not often that  
anyone on this base takes the time to forget about the war for more than five minutes. Some  
of these people I haven't seen smile since Yavin."  
  
"It's a refreshing change, isn't it."  
  
She nodded. "Tomorrow, we'll be too busy to enjoy life again, but at least we'll have  
a fresh memory of what we're fighting for." Her brow furrowed. "If only I could find a way  
to lengthen the night indefinitely."  
  
He offered an arm. "In the meantime, we saved you a seat."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
He led her to her seat and Luke stood to greet her. "How are you feeling?"  
  
She shrugged. "A bit sore, but not too badly."  
  
Her comm sounded and she sighed wearily before removing it from a hidden pocket. "Organa  
here. What's the emergency?"  
  
"We're getting a distress call from the convoy. Rieekan wants the command staff here  
to handle the crisis."  
  
Leia sighed wearily. "I'll be there in three minutes."  
  
Luke's comm sounded and he groaned. Leia frowned at him and stood. "I think you'd  
better answer that on the way."  
* * *  
"Report."  
  
The comm officer looked up as most of the command staff entered. "About 4 minutes  
ago, we were hailed by Commander Neva. They'd been interdicted at a point somewhere inside  
the Derra system in the Quellii sector. Entrapment formation."  
  
"Do they have a count on the number of ships?"  
  
"Any losses?"  
  
The comm officer winced. "We lost all comm contact with them approximately one minute  
thirty-nine seconds ago."  
  
"Comm interdiction," Leia suggested, hoping that the alternative wasn't a reality.  
  
"Not likely," Rieekan countered. "Unless they specifically knew what frequencies to  
block."  
  
"We can't rule out betrayal," Luke countered. "It was, after all, an ambush."  
  
"Most likely," Major Bern interjected, "they were all destroyed or disabled."  
  
Leia frowned deeply. "A convoy of thirty-six ships and four X-wings destroyed within  
four minutes. I'd like to hope our security isn't *that* bad."  
  
"Who's closest?"  
  
Rieekan chewed his lip thoughtfully. "We have the Mon Rebthon five lightyears away.  
Nothing closer." He tapped the screen. "You did record the encounter, yes?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Contact the Mon Rebthon and have them dispatched to the Derra system to assess the  
situation and lend aid if necessary."  
  
Leia leaned forward, reading the transcript with growing dread. "They mentioned unfamiliar  
ships, one about ten times the size of a Star Destroyer. I hope they find survivors so at least  
we know what exactly they were up against."  
  
Luke nodded. "Especially the warship geared against snubfighters. Someone must be  
atoning for the disaster at Yavin."  
  
"Undoubtedly," Rieekan agreed. "Lieutenant Gedne, any word from the Rebthon?"  
  
"They're on their way. We should know within a few minutes."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Leia scrolled through the transcript one more time. "They lost Neeva."  
  
The rest of the command staff fell silent. "Are you sure," Bern asked.  
  
"Lancer Three confirms it about thirty seconds before the communications were cut off,"  
Rieekan stated. "Captain Skywalker, it would appear that you're due for a field promotion."  
  
"I'd rather it be under better circumstances," Luke countered grimly.  
  
"Nevertheless, Commander, you are in command of Rogue Squadron."  
  
Leia squeezed Luke's shoulder gently. "No better person for the job."  
  
"Thank you," he said quietly.  
  
"Report from Mon Rebthon. They found one X-wing dead in space. The pilot confirms that  
all other ships have been destroyed."  
  
"*One* X-wing," Bern said incredulously.  
  
"Flight Officer Vos will be debriefed after the medics treat her. She has several broken  
bones and other minor injuries."  
  
"Vos?"  
  
Luke's brow furrowed in concentration. "That's not one of ours."  
  
"Intelligence officer," Cracken supplied. "Tell the Captain to contact me on my private  
channel for instructions."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Leia turned to frown at the rest of the command. "What do we do now? We lost an entire  
convoy of much-needed supplies."  
  
Rieekan rubbed his eyes wearily. "We contact black market suppliers, smugglers, and  
any other resources we can dig up. Your friend Captain Solo should be quite helpful in that  
regard."  
  
"If we can get him to cooperate," Leia said wryly.  
  
"And in the meantime, we go on with the festivities while we can, then get some sleep,   
evacuate tomorrow, and hope for a full-blown miracle." 


	2. Default Chapter Title

SECOND CHANCES, PART 2/3  
By Kathryn Olsen  
  
"We've been given a second chance at the war."  
  
Leia Organa pulled up a file on the datapad. "Captain Solo's contacts on Ord Mantell  
have offered to negotiate for a sizable amount of weaponry and vehicles."  
  
"Negotiate," Major Bern snorted. "They're smugglers. Their idea of diplomatic patience  
is a matter of how long their blaster power pack lasts."  
  
Leia's eyes narrowed in annoyance. Bern was the most inflexible officer on Echo Base  
and insufferably self-righteous. It would make sense that he would veto this mission on grounds  
of who the contact happened to be.  
  
"Nevertheless," she continued, "the materiel is a good step towards recovering what we  
lost at Derra IV."  
  
"Do we have the resources to negotiate for that sort of equipment," General Carlist  
Rieekan asked.  
  
Leia sighed. "Probably not as much as we'd like, but we will appropriate what we can."  
  
"And who is to lead this mission?"  
  
Leia glanced at the flooring. "I am."  
  
Rieekan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Leia, Ord Mantell is not the safest place  
for a Princess of Alderaan."  
  
"Hoth is not the safest place," she countered. "But I am not doing this as a Princess  
of Alderaan. I am doing this because I am the best negotiator on this base."  
  
Leia sat back and fixed Rieekan with a stare, almost daring him to deny her the opportunity.  
He returned the gaze for a long moment, then sighed in resignation.  
  
"When do you leave?"  
  
She allowed herself a small smile. "Tomorrow morning."  
  
Bern nodded. "Come to my office in four hours and we will discuss the exact flexibility  
of our funds."  
  
"Yes, Major."  
  
Rieekan pushed to his feet. "If there is nothing else, this meeting is adjourned."  
  
Leia shut off her datapad and stood, gathering her materials. She tucked the datacards  
into the pocket of her snowsuit and her datapad into another.  
  
"Leia, a word?"  
  
She turned to smile at Rieekan. "General, with you, it's never just one word."  
  
"True." He beckoned her to walk with him. "Are you sure about this?"  
  
She sighed. "Absolutely. Mon Mothma was actually the one to suggest that I go along.  
I know you trust her judgment."  
  
"As I trust yours," he countered. "I am only concerned for how much risk you're willing  
to put yourself at."  
  
She frowned deeply. They'd had this conversation far too many times over the past three  
years. "No more than anyone else on base, General."  
  
"You are a leader of the Rebellion."  
  
"I am an insurgent; job security is not in the contract."  
  
"I would prefer you let someone else handle the negotiations."  
  
She shook her head adamantly. "I don't trust anyone else that far, except for you."  
She smiled slightly. "Besides, I'll be backed up by Captain Solo. Killing me would ruin his  
reputation."  
  
Rieekan snorted and grinned in spite of himself. "Your logic is stunning."  
  
She hooked her arm through his and smiled encouragingly. "I'll be fine. You have nothing  
to worry about."  
  
Rieekan rolled his eyes. "That's what they said about Toprawa."  
  
Leia winced at the memory of what the mission to retrieve the Death Star plans had cost  
them all. Millions had died with Alderaan and Toprawa, the transfer point, had been bombed into  
technological impotence. On the other hand, they'd destroyed the Death Star, saving hundreds  
of star systems from the same fate as Alderaan.  
  
"That entire mission was a fiasco," she agreed. "We can't guarantee that this mission  
won't be disastrous, but such is the case with anything we undertake as rebels."  
  
He halted in the middle of the corridor and turned her to face him. He gripped her  
shoulders gently, forcing her to meet his concerned gaze. "Promise me you'll come back safely."  
  
She nodded. "To the best of my abilities."  
  
He embraced her tightly. "That's all we can ask for."  
* * *  
"Anyone home?"  
  
There was a crash and a loud expletive from the cockpit. Leia grinned and set her satchel  
on the floor of the main hold.  
  
"I'll take that as a yes, then?"  
  
Han Solo emerged from the cockpit, rubbing his head. "Stang, Your Worship, don't you  
ever knock?"  
  
She shrugged. "If you want formalities, don't leave your door open."  
  
He winced. "Very true. You ready to go?"  
  
She grinned. "Punctuality is one of my virtues." She glanced towards the cockpit.  
"Do you need help with anything?"  
  
"No," he grumbled. "I was just rewiring the navcomputer."  
  
"Is that safe?"  
  
"Probably not," he said wryly, "but one of the boards had a short and I had to redirect  
the circuit so we don't end up in the middle of the Maw."  
  
"So can we be going?"  
  
"As soon as we get the engines warmed up. It's a lot harder to counteract a cold start  
when the rest of the planet is a giant snowball." He turned a grin on her. "The climate control  
is finally working, so this should be the warmest place on base in about ten seconds."  
  
"Not very hard to accomplish," she countered.  
  
He gestured to the crew quarters. "You should get set up. It's a long ways to Ord  
Mantell and if I know our contact, you'll need all the rest you can get."  
* * *  
Leia stumbled into the galley, yawning. Han looked up and grinned. "Stay right there.  
I'm going to get a holorecorder for the noble purposes of blackmail."  
  
"Shove a hydrospanner in it, Solo," she grumbled.  
  
"There's that charm again."  
  
"It's morning and I had a very restless night," she countered.  
  
His grin disappeared. "More nightmares?"  
  
She nodded, sinking onto the bench across from him. "They've gotten worse since Derra  
IV."  
  
His brow furrowed. "I'm sorry."  
  
She offered a weary smile. "It's not your fault, despite what I'd like to think."  
  
He stood and poured two cups of caf. "This should help with the grogginess."  
  
She sipped at her mug and grimaced. "You've been taking cooking lessons from our Cor  
Sec friends, haven't you?"  
  
"Wedge Antilles, actually. His parents taught him to make it strong and bitter, with  
the right consistency to substitute for engine lubricants if necessary."  
  
She cradled the mug in her hands. "So that's what you use to keep this thing running."  
  
"That and the legendary Solo luck."  
  
She laughed softly. "Why am I not surprised?"  
  
"No person can survive what I have without a bit of luck."  
  
"Luke would say there is no luck, only the Force."  
  
Han shook his head. "I have no trust in the intangible  
  
He handed her a plate. "We'll be at Ord Mantell in about four hours. You should be  
well-fed and fully alert by then. As your humble servant..."  
  
"Humble," she snorted.  
  
He turned a mock-hurt expression her. "As your humble servant, it's my job to make  
sure that happens."  
  
"How very reassuring."  
  
He frowned. "Have I ever failed you?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Let's see..."  
  
"Not counting the Seteri mission."  
  
"And Tysan VII."  
  
He winced. "I'd nearly forgotten about that one. Though I must say that you got yourself  
shot."  
  
"Very true," she said, rubbing her arm. "But that was covering your back."  
  
"I would have done the same for you."  
  
Her mouth twitched. "I don't doubt it for one second. Despite what we'd all like to  
think, you're a very unselfish person."  
  
He bowed his head slightly. "Thank you for noticing."  
  
She sipped her caf again, then set the mug on the table and went to work on the food.  
"Why can't we always do this?"  
  
"What?"  
  
Leia tapped her fork against her lips thoughtfully. "Given our experiences since the  
moment I stepped out of that cell on the Death Star, I would have never guessed that we could  
actually have a civilized conversation."  
  
"It must be the grogginess talking," he said with a grin.  
  
She shook her head thoughtfully. "It's not that."  
  
He sat across from her and mimicked her thoughtful scowl. "Maybe all people need in  
this life are second chances. Luke and I gave you a second chance at life that day on the Death  
Star; now you're giving me a second chance at being the kind of friend you deserve."  
  
"I don't deserve anything," she said quietly. "Every person that has come into my life  
has been an unwarranted blessing."  
  
"Even me?"  
  
She smiled slightly. "Especially you. I won't say that I'm glad for the circumstances  
under which we met, but I'm glad that we did. You and Luke and even Chewbacca are the only  
things that have kept me relatively sane."  
  
"Glad to help," he said quietly.  
  
She smiled and hefted her mug. "Then here's to second chances."  
* * *  
"Coming up on Ord Mantell," Han called. "You might want to make yourself presentable."  
  
Leia placed her hands on her hips and scowled with royal indignance. "What's wrong  
with the way I look now?"  
  
"Absolutely nothing," he admitted. "That's the problem. You don't look like someone  
who would be hanging around a tapcaf waiting for her shipment to offload."  
  
She threw him a wink. "I'm sure I could find something suitable."  
  
He brought the Falcon in for a landing and arrived at the top of the ramp to find the  
Princess of Alderaan looking quite unusual.  
  
Intelligence had provided her with a midnight blue body stocking edged with red piping.  
Over that, she wore knee-high boots, a utility belt, a holster, and a light flight jacket. Her   
hair was pinned back from her temples, but fell in soft waves to her waist.  
  
She plucked at a seam on the jacket, obviously self-conscious. "Think I'll fit in?"  
  
"I'll say one thing for you. If we get sold out, the opposition will be too enamored  
to do anything useful."  
  
She blushed fiercely. "My father would kill me for going out dressed as this."  
  
He offered an arm. "Your father would understand."  
  
Leia linked her arm through his and they headed down the ramp. "How far is the tapcafe?"  
  
"It's in the spaceport about 6 bays southeast of here."  
  
"That's a relief," she said quietly. "These boots are killing me."  
  
He snorted and led her out of the docking bay. "Let me make the initial contact, since  
I know him. I'll break his spirit, then toss him to you to finish off."  
  
She smiled in spite of herself. "You have a stunning grasp of diplomatic relations,"  
she said wryly.  
  
"That's another thing. Try to keep your vocabulary under six syllables. Not all of  
my friends are as brilliant as I am."  
  
She laughed. "I'll try."  
  
"You'll like this one," he promised. "He's an Alderaanian."  
  
She turned a startled look on him. "You're kidding."  
  
He grinned. "Not all smugglers are Corellian scum. You may even be able to work that  
to our advantage."  
  
"Hopefully," she agreed. "We're under a tight budget as it is."  
  
The tapcafe, a seedy establishment under the name of Sleight of Hand, was dimly lit  
and overcrowded. The perfect place to hide a meeting between insurgents...  
  
Or a spy.  
  
"Keep a sharp eye out," she advised Han quietly, keeping an easy smile on her face.  
  
"Don't I always," he countered.  
  
"Something to drink?"  
  
Leia looked up to see a Twi'lek server waiting impatiently. "Flameout, light on the  
phosphorescent agent."  
  
"Corellian whiskey," Han ordered.  
  
The server disappeared and Han moved over, drawing her under his arm. "Where did you  
learn such abominable drinking habits?"  
  
She smiled. "You don't make friends in the Star Fighter Command without picking up  
a taste for the odd things in life. The Flameout's a favorite of the Black Deaths." She shrugged.  
"At least it's not lum."  
  
He stiffened suddenly. "See our contact?"  
  
He responded by kissing her passionately, forcefully. Startled, she pushed against  
his chest, but he dug his fingernails into her bicep and she relaxed into the kiss. Finally,   
he pulled her away and clasped her to him.  
  
"We've got trouble," he said into her hair.  
  
"Imperials?"  
  
"Worse," he muttered. "Bounty hunter. We can only hope that he isn't after either one  
of us."  
  
She glanced around. "In a place like this, it could be anyone."  
  
"Nevertheless, if he recognizes either one of us, it could mean disaster. We've both  
got death marks on our heads."  
  
She sucked in her breath. "Perhaps we should move this conversation elsewhere."  
  
"If we can live until Kharten gets here." He pulled back slightly. "Go. About four  
bays to the west is an abandoned docking bay. Number 197. Wait for us there."  
  
"I'm not leaving you here."  
  
He shook his head. "It's safer this way. Take the long route to shake any pursuit."  
  
She leaned in to kiss him. "Don't you dare get yourself killed," she said quietly.  
  
"Not until I get paid," he countered. "See you soon."  
* * *  
"Long time no see, Solo."  
  
Han turned to see Set Kharten slide into a chair across from him. "Don't get too comfortable,"  
he countered quietly. "We're moving this party elsewhere."  
  
Kharten's eyes narrowed. "Bounty hunter?"  
  
Han nodded. "Our veteran negotiator is waiting at Bay 197."  
  
The server finally returned with the drinks. "Anything for you, sir?"  
  
Kharten glanced at the Flameout. "Our friend was called away; I'll just have her drink."  
  
The Twi'lek let out an exasperated sigh at the lost profit. "Yes, sir."  
  
Han knocked back the shot of whiskey and grimaced. "Not the best quality, but the  
hired help certainly makes up for it."  
  
Kharten downed the Flameout and tossed a sampling of local currency into the center  
of the table. "Shall we be going?"  
  
They stood and made their way to the exit. Han could see no pursuit, but bounty hunters  
were notoriously skilled at melting into shadows. They kept up a steady stream of idle conversation,  
wending their way towards 197.  
  
The door was, as expected, unlocked. Han drew his blaster for good measure and stepped  
into the darkened bay.  
  
"She should be here."  
  
He flicked the light on to find Leia lying crumpled in an alarming pool of blood. Han  
rushed to her side and gently inspected her. She was unconscious due to a fairly deep gash  
at the back of her skull. She had been beaten, but there were no blaster wounds, thankfully,  
and her vitals were strong.  
  
"I have a very bad feeling about this," Han commented.  
  
"Who did this to her? There's no one here."  
  
"Don't be so sure of that, Solo."  
  
From the recesses of the bay, a bounty hunter in Mandalorian armor stepped. Boba Fett.  
  
"I couldn't have her interfering in business," he said coldly, "and I'm sure Lord Vader   
would probably be very interested in recapturing her."  
  
"Over my dead body," Han growled.  
  
"That's the idea," Fett countered. "You went too far with the Hutt and now I am authorized  
to deliver a corpse to him."  
  
"Deliver your own."  
  
Han drew his blaster and fired at the unprotected neck area in one swift movement.  
Fett lunged to the side, the shot ricocheting harmlessly off of his armor. His blaster rifle  
came up and he squeezed of a double burst. Han caught one in the arm, but he rolled, coming  
up into a crouch to fire once more at the bounty hunter. The shot hit only armor, but it distracted  
him enough for Kharten to get a stun shot off. The Mandalorian collapsed.  
  
"Nice shot," Han gritted, glancing at the crusted flesh of his upper arm.  
  
"You're lucky he didn't get better aim," Kharten countered. "I think we should see  
to your friend."  
  
Han removed his jacket painfully and used his vibroblade to cut it into strips. He  
used these to bandage her head as best as he could. He then lifted her battered form into his  
arms gently.  
  
The movement caused her to stir. She blinked against the light and raised a hand to  
her forehead. "Where's the Mandalorian?"  
  
"Stunned."  
  
Kharten held out his arms. "I don't think you should aggravate that wound further,  
Solo."  
  
Leia's eyes snapped open. "What wound," she gasped.  
  
"Just a minor arm wound," he assured her, passing her to Kharten. "Not as bad as it  
could have been."  
  
She glanced at Kharten warily. "You're our contact?"  
  
"Yes, Your Highness."  
  
She grimaced. "Let me down. Carrying me through the spaceport would attract too much  
attention."  
  
Kharten set her down and she leaned heavily against Han, favoring her right leg. Upon  
further inspection, the knee was severely dislocated. She eyed Kharten's hooded overcloak.   
"I'll need that to conceal my face and head."  
  
Kharten swept it off and fastened it about her. She pulled the hood up, effectively  
concealing her features. Han could see her biting her lip. "We have to put the joint back  
into place."  
  
"It'll be painful," Han said quietly.  
  
"Can't be worse than it already is."  
  
He helped her sit and Kharten supported her from the back. Thankful that he couldn't  
see her face, Han wrenched the knee back into place. She strangled back a scream and sagged  
against Kharten.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
She shook her head vaguely. "Help me up. We should get out of here before anyone else  
takes an interest in us."  
  
Han nodded and helped her to stand. Her hood fell back and he could see that her pale  
cheeks were awash with tears, her face drawn. She caught his eye, then looked away and replaced  
the hood.  
  
"I don't know about you, Kharten, but I'm sure Han here can impersonate a drunken stagger  
fairly well. We'll have to keep up the appearance of three revelers returning to their ship  
after a night of too much hospitality."  
  
Kharten smiled slightly. "I never thought I'd see a logical mind associated with Solo."  
  
"We'll hold the negotiations on the *Falcon,*" Han interjected. "Ready?"  
  
"As ever."  
  
They each took an arm, draping them over their shoulders. Leia hobbled forward and they  
left the docking bay, staggering as much as possible without causing further discomfort.  
  
"They're watching us," Han murmured.  
  
"Not surprising," Leia countered.  
  
Abruptly, she broke into song, the words slurred but intelligible. Kharten joined in,  
off-key but just as enthusiastic. Han laughed loudly, cursing at a few of the on-lookers in  
several languages.  
  
"I'm never letting you live this down," he commented to Leia.  
  
"Come on, pal," she slurred loudly with more than a little disdain. "Where's your sense  
of fun?"  
  
Kharten broke into another refrain of the Alderaanian drinking song. "Let's rejoice,   
therefore, while we're still young. Let's rejoice, therefore, while we're still young..."  
  
"After a joyful youth and after a terrible old age, the ground will hold us," Leia finished.  
  
Han couldn't help laughing. He steered her into the *Falcon's* docking bay and palmed  
the door shut. Leia promptly collapsed into Kharten's arms and he carried her up the ramp into   
the ship.  
  
"Put her in my cabin," Han called.  
  
He found the *Falcon's* medkit and managed to clean and bandage his own wound before  
heading back to his cabin.  
  
Kharten was laughing easily. "I haven't heard that song since my last night on Alderaan  
four years ago."  
  
Leia rubbed her temples. "I'm not particularly proud that I know it."  
  
"Where did you learn it?"  
  
She smiled wistfully. "My father, as a matter of fact. I didn't know it was a drinking  
song until much later. He taught it to me as a reminder to be human once in a while."  
  
"A wise lesson," Han commented, crossing to her side.  
  
"One I should remember more often," she countered. "Now, on to the matter of the armaments."  
  
Kharten snorted. "Doesn't she ever stop to rest?"  
  
Han grinned. "Not when there's a war to fight."  
  
"The list you sent us was quite impressive."  
  
"I have access to quite a range of supplies," Kharten said.  
  
She nodded painfully. "One of our specialists drew up estimated cost values."  
  
She removed the datacards from her pocket and handed the top one to Kharten. He pulled  
up the file and scanned through. "Your specialist is well-informed."  
  
She nodded and indicated the second datacard. He inserted it into the datapad and began  
scanning through.  
  
"We are prepared to give you, at most, seventy percent of the estimated value, given  
their condition."  
  
"I'm prepared to accept forty percent of the estimated value and no transport charges."  
  
Leia caught her breath. "You're kidding," she said softly.  
  
"All right, thirty-five."  
  
She shook her head. "That's not what you deserve. "  
  
He squeezed her hand. "Your Highness, surely you haven't forgotten your father's favorite  
adage."  
  
She frowned slightly. "'Alderaan is only as eternal as the compassion of its inhabitants?'"  
  
He nodded. "I would honor your father's memory by being much more compassionate, but   
it would drive me out of business."  
  
She buried her face in her hands, then steepled her fingers and pressed them to her  
lips.  
  
"Thank you," she whispered.  
  
He pulled up another file and made some quick calculations. "That's my final offer."  
  
Leia looked over the figures. "Most satisfactory," she said softly. "We'll have the  
money transferred to any line you wish."  
  
He typed in a credit access number. "Only for a Princess of Alderaan." 


	3. Default Chapter Title

SECOND CHANCES, PART 3/3  
By Kathryn Olsen  
  
"Let me see that."  
  
Leia winced as the damp cloth encountered a laceration just below her eye. "That hurts,"  
she protested.  
  
Han Solo looked as though he were fighting a losing battle with a grin. "I know," he  
soothed. "But the bacta gel won't hold unless I get this cleaned."  
  
She sighed and bit her lip, trying to think of anything but the pain. "I can't believe  
this happened to me."  
  
"All missions have a danger factor..."  
  
"No." She sighed. "He took me down with a single blow to the side of the knee. I'd  
thought my defenses were better than that."  
  
Han shook his head. "You weren't supposed to be on the defense. Bay 197 hasn't been  
used in thirty years."  
  
She shrugged. "Why not?"  
  
He broke open the bacta pack and began gently applying the gel to her numerous lacerations.  
The gash on the back of her head would have to wait until they got to a more well-equipped base.  
  
"Some people think it's haunted; others say it's privately owned by one of the Hutt  
syndicates. I just think it's kind of been forgotten."  
  
He removed a vial of pills from the medpack and handed two of the painkillers to her.  
"Those should let you sleep."  
  
She downed them, then grimaced. "I hope they take effect fast. Walking on a dislocated  
knee doesn't help the pain much."   
  
He stood and began repacking the medkit. "I can't imagine it does. Those typically  
take effect in ninety seconds."  
  
"Thank the Force for modern pharmeceuticals," she said with a strained smile.  
  
He shoved her down gently. "Sleep. That's an order."  
  
She settled into the pillow and sighed. "Who was that?"  
  
"Boba Fett. He comes from a long line of bounty hunters and warriors. It's rumored  
that he was one of the first clones and he's the best the scum of the universe have to offer.   
If he is the one hunting either of us, it's not a good sign."  
  
She raised an arm to touch the cut under her eye. "I don't know about you, but I don't  
think being beaten into a stupor is ever a good sign."  
  
Han laughed. "True." He squeezed her fingertips gently. "I'll let you sleep now."  
  
Halfway to the door, her voice halted him. "Han?"  
  
He turned. "Yes, Leia?"  
  
Her brow furrowed in a mixture of regret and consternation. "I'm sorry for failing   
you," she said softly.  
  
*Oh, Sith,* he thought. *She's blaming herself for this whole mess.*  
  
He folded his arms. "Your Highnessness, you have the extraordinarily bad habit of blaming   
anything which happens within the Galaxy proper on yourself."  
  
"I was weak," she countered. "I should have been able to warn you."  
  
"There are a lot of things in this Rebellion that should have been. None of them are  
entirely anyone's fault. We can't change anything by beating ourselves over the head with  
nightmares of what could have been."  
  
She couldn't help smiling. "Leave it to you to absolve yourself of any guilt."  
  
He resumed his seat. "Let me ask you something. Does this self-flagellation make you  
feel better? Does it change anything or bring back the dead? Does it serve anyone at all?"  
  
She frowned. "No," she admitted.  
  
"The blame is not yours to place or accept. You think you have wronged me, but I refuse  
to hold you responsible because you did nothing wrong. So don't blame yourself because you  
don't have the right."  
  
She threw a weak salute. "Yes, sir."  
  
He grinned. "I'll leave you to your dreams now. May they be sweet."  
* * *  
Leia awoke to find a Too-OneBee droid removing bandaging from her face. Luke hovered  
nearby, a concerned look on his face.  
  
"I will live, you know," she said lightly.  
  
His face broke into a sheepish grin. "General Rieekan wasn't too happy when Han brought  
you back unconscious."  
  
Leia rolled her eyes. "Rieekan is the closest thing to a father figure I have left.  
He's a bit overprotective."  
  
"As are we all."  
  
"How long have I been out?"  
  
"Well, you arrived here four days ago."  
  
She touched the healed skin gingerly. "Any scarring?"  
  
"Luckily, no." He stood. "We're all quite impressed with your brilliant negotiation  
skills."  
  
She smiled. "I imagine High Command is as ecstatic as antiquated statesmen get."  
  
"Who are you calling antiquated?"  
  
Leia blushed fiercely as Rieekan entered, a paternal scowl on his face. Leia held out  
a hand and he took it. "Well, General, you have your defenses."  
  
He kissed her cheek. "I can't believe you got them for that price. It's the best deal  
in the history of the Rebellion."  
  
She batted her eyelashes in mock innocence. "Well, no telling what a beautiful princess  
can come up with."  
  
"Indeed," he said with a smile.  
  
He turned to Luke. "Commander Skywalker, I believe you and Captain Solo have duty patrol   
in a few minutes?"  
  
Luke nodded and embraced Leia quickly. "I'll see you tonight?"  
  
She nodded. "I'll contact you."  
  
Rieekan helped her to her feet. She tested her leg and found it a bit sore, but otherwise  
fully healed.  
  
He tossed her the snowsuit she was fond of wearing in this climate. "Sorry, but I don't  
think you would be very suitably dressed in your...costume."  
  
She blushed. "I can't imagine what people thought when I returned from a mission dressed  
like a spacer and knocked out cold."  
  
"You can be assured the rumors flew with their usual peak efficiency." He gestured towards  
a door. "If you'll get changed, I'd like to show you where your efforts went to work."  
  
Leia disappeared into the refresher. Five minutes later, she emerged, braiding her hair  
around her head. "Let's go survey the damage."  
* * *  
"Well, Her Worship is finally up and around."  
  
Leia looked up to see Han standing on top of the *Falcon.* "Couldn't let you see me  
rest," she countered. "Bad for my image."  
  
"I wouldn't be too concerned about that."  
  
She folded her arms. "I never got to thank you for what you did."  
  
"My pleasure," Han commented. "You up for another round of repairs?"  
  
She shook her head. "Rieekan's called a morale leave. Tonight, rotating skeleton  
crews for all stations. He's ordered everyone not on duty to find a way to enjoy themselves."  
  
Han's mouth twitched. "It's an admirable idea."  
  
She nodded. "After what happened at Derra IV and the problems we had when we first got  
to base, everyone's in low spirits."  
  
He nodded. "What are you planning to do?"  
  
She smiled slightly. "I'm sure I'll find something to entertain myself. As for you,  
I came by to let you know that there's a sabacc tournament in the works, courtesy of the South  
officer's mess. Thought you might want to get that money you're always asking for through legitimate   
means."  
  
Han laughed and vaulted down. He landed with a soft thud, then straightened. "I thank  
you for the advisory." He offered an arm. "Would you escort me to the premises?"  
  
She smiled and took the arm. "Certainly."  
  
Rieekan looked up as they entered. "Come to lose a week's wages, are you?"  
  
Han took a seat next to a stony-faced Flight Officer from Corsair Squadron and folded  
his hands. "If you ever paid me wages, perhaps."  
  
"Rumors are spreading, naturally," Leia said. "We should have half the base here by  
the time we're finished with the first hand."  
  
"Then let's get it started. Anty up."  
* * *  
Luke surveyed his hand and tossed it down. "I fold."  
  
Leia sent him a smile. "For a hero of the Rebellion, you have no courage."  
  
Luke scowled. "As Han would undoubtedly like to know, courage does not always involve  
stupidity."  
  
Han threw a vweliu nut at him. "Hold your tongue, farmboy."  
  
Leia held up a hand. "So, call it. Who's the victor here?"  
  
Han threw down his cards. "Twenty-two light."  
  
"Impressive," Rieekan said wryly. "But I don't think that beats a dark sabacc."  
  
He leaned forward to gather the credits in the middle of the table, but Leia rested  
her hand on top of it. "Aren't you interested in what I have?"  
  
Rieekan narrowed his eyes. "All right, Princess, call it."  
  
She smirked. "It's an appropriate choice for this group." She spread her cards and  
sent him her most charming smile. "Idiot's array."  
  
Han groaned. "Go figure."  
  
Leia swept the credits into her small satchel and stood. "I think I'll stop there while  
I still have the credits to do so of my own free will."  
  
She stepped back to let someone else join the game. Luke joined her moments later.  
"Your compassion is overwhelming."  
  
Leia smiled slightly. "What do you mean?"  
  
He gestured to the table. "Another five minutes and you would have bankrupted the  
Rebellion."  
  
"You are too kind."  
  
He reached over and took her hand. "How are you?"  
  
She winced. "I've been better," she admitted.  
  
"Something's changed with you and Han," he observed. "Was it the mission to Ord Mantell?"  
  
Leia nodded. "I don't know how it happened. Somewhere between Hoth and back, we made  
a connection. We found ourselves, for the first time, being friends. I never thought it entirely  
possible."  
  
"Few of us did." He squeezed her hand. "I'm happy. I think we'll all sleep a little  
easier when we shall not be awakened by your brawls."  
  
Leia dropped her chin to her chest and laughed softly. "It is a relief to us both."  
She shrugged. "I can usually tell what a person will be in my life fairly soon. Han's been  
an enigma for three years, but once I gave him a second chance at a first impression, I figured  
out that he's going to be a defining influence."  
  
"He's a mercenary," Luke commented. "He's bound to move on once the funds run low."  
  
"He hasn't done it in three years," she countered. "I think he feels attached to us  
all in some way."  
  
She glanced at him, a familiar heartache rising as she realized that she could be wrong,  
that despite the friends he would leave behind, he would choose to leave.  
  
"We can only hope that he realizes it."  
* * *  
"This is amazing," Leia said quietly, surveying the readouts. "Kharten certainly fulfilled  
his end of the deal."  
  
"A bit of an understatement," Rieekan agreed. "We're having some trouble adapting the  
speeders to the cold, but they should be functional within a day or so."  
  
"That will be convenient." She stepped back and folded her arms across her chest.  
"Any signs of life forms so far?"  
  
"None to speak of."  
  
"Where did we get the ion cannon?"  
  
Rieekan smiled wryly. "While you were at Ord Mantell, one of our attacks on a remote  
Imperial base in the Ketaris Sector resulted in the seizure of the facility. One of the few  
weapons systems left was that cannon. It could come in very handy if we're under aerial attack."  
  
Leia nodded. "We can only hope it doesn't come to that."  
  
"Report from Echo 7. More meteor showers in Sector 12."  
  
Leia sighed. "The disadvantages of parking on a base next to an asteroid field."  
  
Rieekan nodded. "Any anomalous readings on the scopes?"  
  
"None, sir."  
  
"Probably nothing to worry about."  
  
"There's been another meteor impact in Echo 3's region."  
  
"Just one?"  
  
"Apparently."  
  
Leia heard Luke's voice coming over the comm to confirm that he was investigating the  
matter. "Hope it doesn't take too long. There's a storm coming and night will come early as  
it is."  
  
Rieekan frowned. "Keep sensors trained on that area." He turned to Leia. "You don't  
have to been on-duty for another hour. I suggest you go rest."  
  
"I've been resting for nearly five days," she countered. "I'll let my predecessor get  
the rest he needs."  
  
Rieekan gestured her to her seat and turned away to converse with the tracking officer.  
Leia crossed to her seat at the sensor boards and pulled on the headset.  
  
Lieutenant Tarin Chet looked over and smiled. "Good to see you're back, Princess. We  
were worried."  
  
She shrugged and returned the smile. "We ran into a bit of trouble with a bounty hunter,  
but no serious damage. Not even a scar to show for it."  
  
"I heard you survived Boba Fett."  
  
Leia shuddered. "That's what Han tells me."  
  
"I always heard you were unusual, but now you're elite." He frowned. "We ran into  
him once when I was with Intelligence and not many of us lived to remember the experience."  
  
Leia winced. "I wasn't exactly conscious to know what happened. After dislocating  
my knee, the first thing he did was knock me out."  
  
"You're lucky that's all he did."  
  
"Lord Vader doesn't pay well for corpses," she said quietly.  
  
Chet turned to stare at her, not quite wanting to acknowledge the truth of her statement.  
"Indeed," he said instead.  
  
The door to the command center hissed open and she heard Han report back to Rieekan.  
She turned to see him, but he barely noticed her.  
  
"General, I've got to leave. I can't stay here any more."  
  
Leia caught her breath. She had known that this day would come, but it didn't help  
ease the shock. After three years of faithful service to the Rebellion, he was going to finally  
move on.  
  
She turned back to her boards, trying not to listen. Readings from the crash sites were  
coming through. It was mostly metal, probably some composite ore from the asteroid field.  
  
"A pity, you know."  
  
Leia glanced at Chet, found him trying not to smile. "What?"  
  
"He's one of the best we've got."  
  
"True," she said quietly.  
  
She suddenly became aware of Han behind her. She turned slowly, keeping her expression  
as blank and aloof as possible.  
  
"Well, Your Highness," he said quietly. "I guess this is it."  
  
Annoyance at him lingered in her mind. "That's right," she said flatly.  
  
His eyes narrowed to slits. "Well, don't get all mushy on me. So long, Princess."  
  
He stormed from the command center, leaving bemused spectators behind. Ripping off  
her headset, Leia stood and followed.  
  
He was halfway down the hall, not even looking back to see if she was taking pursuit.  
  
"Han!"  
  
He halted and turned as she caught up with him. "Yes, Your Highnessness," he mocked.  
  
She drew parallel to him and tilted her chin, fixing him with her most imperious glare.  
"I thought you had decided to stay."  
  
"Well, the bounty hunter we ran into on Ord Mantell changed my mind."  
  
"Han, we need you," she snapped.  
  
"We need?"  
  
He repeated the phrase, more to himself than anyone else. "What about you need?"  
  
"I need," Leia repeated, incredulous. Was he implying... "I don't know what you're  
talking about."  
  
Han smirked. "Probably don't."  
  
He continued his exodus with her close behind. "And what *precisely* am I supposed  
to know," she demanded.  
  
"Come on," he taunted. "You want me to stay because of the way you feel about me."  
  
"Yes," she admitted. "You're a great help to us, a natural leader."  
  
"No."  
  
He finally stopped and jabbed a finger into her face. "Come on," he mocked. "Huh?"  
  
His grin was infuriating, his words a bit too logical for comfort. "You're imagining  
things," she protested.  
  
"Am I? Then why are you following me? Afraid I was going to leave without a goodbye  
kiss?"  
  
The memory of that moment on Ord Mantell, the fervor behind the kiss, the taste...  
  
"I'd just as soon kiss a Wookie," she stated.  
  
He seethed. "I can arrange that."  
  
He stalked away, clearly as infuriated as she was. "You could use a good kiss."  
  
She threw up her hands in frustration and stalked back to the command center, followed  
by the bemused laughter of her comrades.  
  
Rieekan stood at the door, one eyebrow cocked. "Perhaps you should take the remainder  
of the day off. You do not seem yourself."  
  
She blushed furiously. "I apologize for my lack of control."  
  
"Quite all right," he said quietly. "None of us are particularly happy to see him go.  
You have a good friend in him."  
  
She looked back over her shoulder. "I know."  
* * *  
Night had fallen hours before. The storms were building with steady fury.  
  
Inside the hangar, Leia was keeping vigil for the best friends she'd ever hoped to have.  
She'd been frantic when it was announced that Luke was missing somewhere on the plains of Hoth.  
  
But she had no idea that the disappearance of Han Solo would so devastate her.  
  
He'd left her with nothing but memories of rebuke to think of. He undoubtedly thought  
that she did not even value him enough to properly say goodbye to a friend.  
  
She was abruptly and acutely sorry for every wrong she'd done him. He'd done more to  
save her, body and spirit, than anyone else that she knew of. He would never cease to amaze  
her, to uplift her. He would never hesitate to comfort her.  
  
He would never know that she loved him.  
  
Much as the thought startled her, it was true. Somewhere in all of the madness, she  
had grown to love him.  
  
Perhaps there would still be a chance. Until the morning, there would be a chance to  
reconcile.  
  
As long as they kept the blast doors open, there was hope.  
  
The possibility was becoming bleaker with every passing heartbeat. She could hear the  
mournful howling of the gales and felt the ever-present chill begin to penetrate her heart.  
  
For lack of anything else to do, she paced before the *Falcon,* unwilling to let their  
return go unheralded.  
  
"All reports are in," she heard someone say. "Still no..."  
  
Leia looked up sharply. The Major lowered his voice at a signal from Colonel Derlin,  
but the meaning was clear. Leia braced herself against the landing strut and prepared for the  
worst.  
  
"Your Highness," Derlin said softly.  
  
Leia looked up, daring him to pronounce her friends' death sentence.  
  
"The shield doors must be closed."  
  
That was it. Nothing but a miracle would save them now.  
  
Her throat constricted and her brow furrowed as she fought the tears that threatened  
to surface.  
  
She lowered her chin and nodded, unable to speak the words that would consign their  
fate.  
  
As the doors began to close, she lifted her eyes, hoping to see two figures emerging  
from the darkness. No reprieve came.  
  
Chewbacca let out an undulating howl, his shaggy forehead pressed to the hull, his  
tone matching the keening wind.  
  
Leia knew exactly how he felt. 


End file.
